December 2008 Sánchez Commentaries & Sample Homilies B cycle

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT (B)December 7, 2008A Paradigm ShiftPatricia Datchuck Sánchez

Isa 40:1-5, 9-112 Pet 3:8-14Mark 1:1-8

Barring the misfortune of extreme hardship, neglect or abuse, human beings are born into this world with a Ptolemaic view of the universe: Everything and everyone revolves around self. Loving parents dote, relatives and friends of the family are similarly attentive, and only as children mature does their focus on self begin to adjust as each realizes that there are others in this world as precious as they. At times, however, it becomes rather easy to slip back into a self-centered and self-oriented mode of existence.

Independent and ambitious as we are accustomed to being, we still tend to think in terms of my wants, my needs, my opinions, my future. Nevertheless, while the world may encourage a decidedly self-centered focus, this holy season and our faith tradition invite us once again to shift our center from self to God. John the Baptizer lends his voice to the importance of that shift; in today’s Marcan Gospel, he proclaims that Jesus is the focus of his life and all his energies as a human being. He called Jesus “One who is mightier than I” and admitted his unworthiness to “stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals.” John also admitted the temporary nature of his mission and of his own importance, and turned the eyes of his hopeful contemporaries away from himself toward Jesus, toward God.

Centering on God in this way is difficult to achieve and even more difficult to maintain, but it enables the believer to cultivate a fresh perspective whereby God is first and last and foremost, and the value of all others and all else takes on new clarity. Focusing on God enables one to appreciate life and its blessings as God does, with reverence. Focusing and centering on God invites a repentance that turns us from self and sin to God, to others and to goodness. Energies formerly spent on self-satisfaction can then be directed toward proactive efforts for the well-being of others. John had learned the necessity of such a paradigm shift in his life. His example invites similar efforts on our part.

Israel also learned the necessity of shifting its center from self to God. Salvation history testifies to the struggle of our forebears in the faith to maintain this shift. Voices other than God’s voice called out to the Israelites. Tempting and intriguing pagan practices invited the people to worship idols. Other nations and their leaders called for their political loyalties. False prophets lured them with lies, and their own weakness and lack of trust in God finally resulted in a radical shift away from God, away from Judah to exile, away from freedom, away from all they loved and cherished. Just when that shift seemed absolute and permanent, God spoke through Deutero-Isaiah (first reading) the words that continue to encourage us today: “Comfort, comfort my people.” God comes like a gentle shepherd inviting all who have strayed or shifted from their God-center to repent and return.

With an urgency that cannot be ignored, the author of 2 Peter (second reading) moves us to act now, for when the Lord and center of our lives appears again in Jesus, the time for shifting

will have elapsed. Therefore, says the ancient writer, surrender to grace now and turn to God now. Center on Jesus and put your spiritual gears into overdrive now, so as to make the paradigm shift of repentance now. Then, even when the day of the Lord comes “like a thief in the night,” we will have nothing to fear, for we shall be already be firmly anchored in and fully centered on God.

With God as our ultimate vantage point, our focus and the person through whom all else is perceived, we cannot help but live differently. We cannot help but be kinder, truer and more adamant in our struggle for justice and peace. These differences, which give voice to our faith, will witness to others that redemption is possible, that God is near, that there is every reason not to lose hope!

Isa 40:1-5, 9-11In 1960, cartoonist Bil Keane of Philadelphia began producing the delightful “Family

Circus.” Now published in more than 1,500 newspapers worldwide, it is the most syndicated cartoon in the United States. Modeled after his own family, the cartoon features a couple and their four children. A frequent subject of the cartoon is the path one of the children may take from point A to point B. For example, rather than go straight to school and arrive on time, Billy or Jeffy may take a trip that includes a stop at the park, a pause to dip feet in the reflecting pool, time to play ball with a friend, a few minutes to watch televisions through a shop window, etc. As it is mapped out by Keane, the journey to school looks like a maze or labyrinth rather than a direct route. At times, our journey to God is similarly circuitous, as was the journey of the ancient Israelites. Therefore, the advice that Deutero-Isaiah offered to his contemporaries and that John repeated at the Jordan River remains apropos: Prepare the way of the Lord; make straight the path that will lead you to God.

Deutero-Isaiah was a companion to his suffering contemporaries in Babylonia, and was convinced that the sins of his people had mapped their itinerary into exile. Dalliances with other gods and alliances with other nations had damaged their relationship with God and had led them far afield of their intended journey in God’s company. But just when it seemed that their journey had come to a dead end in Babylonia, the prophet held out to his people the hope of a journey homeward, to God, to Judah and to a new beginning. He called this hope “good news” (v. 9) and was proud to be its herald, or mebasser. This Hebrew term, derived from the verb basar, “to proclaim,” is the equivalent of “evangelist.” As God’s evangelist, Deutero-Isaiah should stand tall and shout aloud the word of God, which will transform the lives of those who will listen. For the exiles, the gospel proclaimed by their prophetic brother declared that God was present to them with power and strength, but also with gentleness. Like lambs who had strayed far from safety, God would gather them up and carry them home.

As Walter Brueggemann has noted, there are two images of God here — that of a macho warrior at the head of a great victory parade and that of a gentle shepherd (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). By wedding these two images, the prophet’s vision lets God be all in all, for all. Those who seemingly had no future and no way out of their devastating situation are comforted by a powerful, gentle God. On the way home, the exile becomes a memory, darkness is dispelled by light, their spiritual drought is ended and life begins anew. Every aspect of this wondrous transformation hinges upon the people hearing God’s good news, trusting in it and responding to it.

So it goes in our lives as well. Good news and God’s power are ever present to draw us out of whatever threatens our freedom and causes us to lose our way. Good news and our gentle, powerful God can bring us back to our center, if only we will listen and learn.

2 Pet 3:8-14Had the early second-century author of 2 Peter known how this description of the Day of

the Lord would be misconstrued through the centuries, the writer may have omitted such graphic predictions of a mighty roar and dissolution of fire. Yet despite those who see signs of the end in every natural disaster and political upheaval, the ancient writer’s words are not without significance. Fire is a frequent scriptural symbol for testing. Purification should, indeed, precede any encounter with the divine so that what is transient and unimportant will give way to what is lasting, valuable and worthy.

More important than the symbolic description of the Day of the Lord is the author’s advice concerning the conduct befitting those who prepare to meet God. By making the most of the “delay” in the Lord’s appearance, believers can avail themselves of the patience of God, who wants only what is good for every creature. In order to achieve that good, we must repent. Repentance begins with our re-centering on God and turning away from all that might lure us away from God.

By turning to God and to grace, and in conducting themselves in holiness and devotion (v. 11), believers anticipate the new creation promised by God (v. 13). Christian belief, explains Pheme Perkins, is that the coming of a new creation, rather than fear of divine judgment, forms the basis for holiness as a way of life (First and Second Peter, James and Jude, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1995). Acting and living out of faith rather than fear is the manner by which believers best prepare themselves to see God.

Nevertheless, some believers might find that their motivation for doing good continues to hinge upon their dread of what may await them in the afterlife. Today, the wise counsel of 2 Peter challenges readers to move beyond that level of moral development that acts out of fear so as to grow into persons of integrity who choose to do good simply because it is the right thing to do. Fear of punishment and desire for reward should not figure into the believer’s deliberate resolve to work and wait worthily for the God who comes.

Advent serves as a yearly reminder that God will indeed come. Although it may be difficult to summon any level of excitement at this prospect, the voices of Advent are full of anticipation. Perhaps what we need is a new way of careful listening that takes to heart the Advent message. Rather than allow the small voice in the back of our minds that says, “It will never happen, at least not now, not here” to shape our attitudes, let us allow God’s word to awaken in us the expectation that will look for God around every corner and in every human face.

Mark 1:1-8Consider for a moment the world into which John the Baptizer spoke these words that

have become Gospel for every believer in Jesus. Ruled by Rome, the nations under the imperial command were connected by a network of roads that facilitated access to the population and fostered commerce. These roads were used by Roman soldiers and generals whose visits were intended to establish their authority and control. Messengers were frequently sent ahead of Roman dignitaries to alert the townspeople to prepare a welcome. Into this atmosphere of Roman imperialism, John’s voice speaks of making preparations for one who is not only greater than he

but is greater even than the emperor. He is the Lord (v. 3) whose way is prepared not with stones that pave a new road, but with a heart whose faith has created a welcome for him. Hearts that have turned from all else to God — this is the welcome that will receive the One who comes to baptize with the Holy Spirit.

Like his predecessors Deutero-Isaiah (45:5) and Malachi (3:1), John made his announcement to people who were struggling to maintain their hope that God would hear their prayer and send a savior. His appeal is obvious. His contemporaries had a great spiritual hunger. Despite the harshness of his call to repentance and the austerity of his appearance, they flocked to him, acknowledged their sins and were baptized.

John’s camel-hair clothing and leather belt identified him as a prophet. John’s diet underscored the two-edged nature of his message as well as the good news that Jesus would bring. Those who accepted the Gospel of salvation in faith would know blessings (signified by the honey); those who did not were planting the seeds of their own destruction (symbolized by the locusts).

Many of his contemporaries thought that John might be the messiah; this belief persisted to the extent that by the time the Gospel tradition was committed to writing (Mark, late 60s; Matthew and Luke, 80s; John, 90s), each evangelist, in turn, clarified John’s temporary and subordinate role in God’s saving plan.

Here in the Marcan Gospel, John is presented as deflecting attention away from himself toward Jesus, whose ministry was about to begin. “He is coming after me but he is greater than I,” witnesses John. His witness invites a similar declaration from each of us. Ministry for the sake of the Gospel should redirect the attention and adulation of others from ourselves to God. Mediators and ministers of the message we may be, but we are not the message. Therefore, it devolves upon those whose privilege it is to preach and teach the good news to be sure not to get in the way of its truth. Nor should God’s heralds offer negative witness by sending mixed messages or contradictory ones where our words are not borne out in actions.

In the sixth century, Gregory the Great recommended that believers of every generation continue to emulate John until Jesus comes. “Whoever preaches right faith and good works prepares … a road for the Lord to come into the hearer’s heart so that this gracious power might penetrate and the light of truth illuminate them. Thus may the preacher make straight paths for God” (quoted by Bede, Corpus Christianorum, CXX, 439).

Sample Homily for Dec. 7, 2008, Second Sunday of Advent“The Normal Way of Living”Fr. James Smith

John the Baptist is famous not in his own right, but for being the forerunner of the Messiah.

The closest I came to feeling like Forerunner John was in the Army. I was ordered to paint a fence blue, so I spent the day at it. Next day, when I started where I had left off, I looked back to see another soldier painting yellow over my blue. I wondered why. Did the general have second thoughts? Was my blue just a primer? Was the sergeant colorblind? It finally didn’t matter, because I was a lowly private who was not privy to the grand scheme of the military mystery. I simply had to trust that my little painting job had some useful purpose.

John must have felt something like that. He painted the air blue with his haranguing of scribes and cursing of Pharisees. But then came Jesus with mellow yellow words of peace and love. John was confused. Had he misunderstood

his mission? Had God thought of a better plan? It finally didn’t matter, since John was a lowly forerunner who had no business second-guessing divine mysteries. He simply had to trust that his 15 minutes of minor celebrity played a small part in God’s providence for the world.

But even then, John seemed ambivalent about his message. He cursed sinners, threatened them with fire and ax, warned them of impending destruction. But then when they asked him how to avoid this catastrophe, he just told them to do a good day’s work and not cheat — things they ought to be doing even without the kingdom.

Most of us are as confused as John’s hearers must have been. We have been led to believe that the religion of the kingdom is extreme, otherworldly, unearthly, extraordinary — that our life on earth is an amateur forerunner of the professional life hereafter. We are surprised, and maybe a little disbelieving, when we are told that we have only one life, which stretches from here to eternity; that God cannot be reached in heaven but can be touched in the smallest earthly act; that the greatest commandment of loving God can really be obeyed, but only by loving our neighbor as our self.

Christianity is not a radical sect, it is not a clique for a chosen few, it is not anti-secular, it is not opposed to earthly pleasure, its laws are not un-keepable. Christianity is the normal way of living. Christ is the pattern, the paradigm, the template, the actual life of all humanity. To be Christian is to be human.

We are simply asked to fulfill our normal responsibilities in everyday life, every day of our life. And there’s the rub. It would be easier to gird our loins, gather our strength, screw our will into one magnificent act of heroism. That might be very difficult, but it would be over in an instant. As we mature and grow in grace, we discover that the hard part is the patient endurance of everyday life under the gaze of God.

That is what John discovered in the dungeon. He saw Jesus rising like a beautiful comet, a popular hero, a legend in his own time. Where had John gone wrong? Why was he discarded so quickly? What had his forerunning amounted to? With his area of activity reduced to a prison cell, he had only to trust in God.

Sometimes, when we find ourselves hemmed in on all sides, all we can do hang on in hope, grow in love and finish the race in faith.

Sample Homily for Dec. 8, 2008, Feast of the Immaculate Conception“Nature Waits for Us”Fr. James Smith

Nature participates in reality on a deeper level than human beings do. Whales sound to each other miles apart, eagles can see their prey miles away, a butterfly in Beijing generates airwaves across an ocean. The earth is a living, throbbing organism; there is a physical, molecular relationship among all things. All human beings are distant relatives. And thus it happened that once upon a time, the earth stood still. It

was unconsciously aware that something momentous was occurring. Fish stopped swimming, the wind held its breath, grass stopped growing, cows turned their lowered heads slowly toward Nazareth.Creatures of nature could not know what a super-nature angel was, but

they sensed that it was offering this little girl a unique opportunity in the history of the world. Since the animals had no language, they could not know what Mary said, but they felt that she was pondering her answer with every fiber of her young consciousness.

Then the angel left. The girl went back to her housework. Even with no idea of what had just transpired, the natural world intuited that a line had been crossed, a new balance had been struck; the natural world — and perhaps the human world — had entered a new phase of existence. Meantime, human beings, busy about many things, were unaware of this

turning point in secular history and divine providence. They went on marrying and burying and buying and selling as if those were world-changing events. It was only 30 years later that humans had to deal with Mary’s decision to bear a child. Then it took hundreds of years for us to realize what his life and death really meant for us.And now, 2,000 years later, secure in the lap of salvation, we have the

luxury of wondering: What if Mary had said “No”?In one sense, nothing would have changed; we would not even know about

the angelic offer. That “No” would have ended the conversation. But since Mary did keep the divine dialogue alive, we know what would have happened if she had been afraid, or busy, or preoccupied with personal concerns. God’s Son would not have become one of us, lived a earthly life, shared in our human predicament, risen from the dead and sent his Spirit to enliven us. Without Mary’s “Yes” and Jesus’ birth, we would still be waiting for God to make a definitive move. We would still be wondering if God cared about us or was majestically indifferent toward us or even angry with us for disappointing God. But Mary said “Yes” for all of us, and Jesus died and rose for each of

us. All doubt has been erased, all questions answered. God has committed to our world. And since God is for us, it doesn’t matter what is against us. Because God is faithful, God will love us to the end. We will finally be one with God and one with nature, which has patiently endured our coming of age.

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT (B)December 14, 2008Good NewsPatricia Datchuck Sánchez

Isa 61:1-2, 20-111 Thess 5:16-24John 1:6-8, 19-28

Again, as with last Sunday’s scripture texts, the message that is being conveyed to the praying assembly is one of good news! Trito-Isaiah (first reading) reminds us that this good news is all about healing, freedom, relationships with God and one another, and taking good care of the poor. Paul, in his letter to the Thessalonians, affirms our belief that the good news of salvation calls for joyousness and confident prayer to God, which is to be translated into lives that reflect the holiness and goodness of our God. John the Baptizer will witness in the Gospel that Jesus brings light into every darkened corner of mind and heart. That light represents the very life and love of God.

Although this good news is welcome, and while we are eager to hear and assimilate it, the voice of this good news seems to be stifled by a cacophony of bad news. Even as we yearn to carry God’s good news in our hearts, we must admit that the bad news has infiltrated every nook and cranny of ourselves.

Since the time of the Vietnam War, when the senseless injustices and violence of war spilled into our living rooms via television, we have been unable to staunch the tide of bad news. With the Internet, bad news can be electronically downloaded anywhere, to anyone, at any time.

As a result, the human community is being bombarded with a continuous stream of badness and sadness. On any given day, somewhere in this world, human beings are suffering the effects of ethnic cleansing, territorial disputes, famine, disease, as well as natural and man-made disasters that have altered the topography and demography of this planet. Just when there seems to be no respite or any solution to these overwhelmingly tragic events, we are reminded that there is good news, and we, like Isaiah, Paul and the two Johns, are its heralds. Ours are the voices that are charged with the responsibility and the privilege of making this good news known wherever we are and to whomever we encounter.

Moreover, as heralds of good news, we are to deliver our message with joy. Our joy is not silly or naïve or unaware of the gravity of this world’s ills; it is fully attuned to all that hurts, all that wounds, all that kills. But we are not defeated by evil. On the contrary, our grip on God and on God’s loving goodness is so tight that we can withstand evil. Drawing on the depths of God’s mercies, we can find a way to muster a joy so contagious that it will uplift and strengthen those who have lost the cause of their joy.

However, before we can find our own joy and communicate it to the joyless, we must ask ourselves: Do I really believe that the essence of the message that God has spoken into the world through the authors of both biblical testaments is, indeed, good news? Do I believe that this good news can speak with any relevance to a 21st-century human community? Is this good news only for Sundays? Is its message and influence confined to churches, shrines and other sanctuaries? Does this good news in any way speak to my daily life? Can the preaching and teaching and living of this good news have any effect on the immensity of human suffering and need?

If each of us cannot, in truth and in faith, affirm the essential pertinence of the good news and resolve to be its heralds, then that same truth demands that we leave this holy place and this praying assembly, for our presence here constitutes a lie. But if each of us has even the faintest whisper of such faith trying to grow within us, then let us gather ourselves together unto the One whose coming we anticipate.

Together, in Christ in whom we believe, and whose heralds we are, we will find the strength to be the good news that the world needs and longs to hear — the good news that God is, that God is present, that God hears and cares and graces all who reach out. And when these cannot reach out to God for themselves, then it is we who will bring to God to them. In our alertness to every human need, we are good news. In our courage to speak of these needs to others, we become gospel. In our efforts to alleviate the needs of others, to tend their hungers as well as their angers, their wounds as well as their wants, we become evangelists. When we bring the good news of God’s love into every strata of the human condition and dare to deal head-on with the evils that plague our brothers and sisters, then we are glad tidings. When we cease being overwhelmed by evil and are more confident that goodness can never be overcome by it, then, by God and by grace, we become good news that begs to be heard by all God’s people.

Isa 61:1-2, 20-11Belgian Cardinal Leo Joseph Suenens (1904-1996) shared the vision of Pope John XXIII

regarding the responsibility of the church for the world, as well as the conviction that the church had yet to fully realize that responsibility. For that reason, both men urged the church toward radical renewal. Both men knew that the church had good news to preach, and they were certain

that this good news was to affect every aspect of the human condition. Suenens wrote: “The preaching of the Gospel and its acceptance imply a social revolution whereby the hungry are fed and justice becomes the right of all” (The Gospel to Every Creature, The Newman Press, Westminster, Md.: 1956). Centuries before Suenens and John XXIII, God was already enunciating this truth through the prophets. Trito-Isaiah, who helped to support his contemporaries’ hope and faith during the post-exilic period, was among the most encouraging. His insights find an echo in Jesus, who identified as his own the mission of bringing God’s good news, with all its blessings, to every creature.

Similar words had been spoken by the prophet’s predecessor, who used them to describe the Servant of the Lord (Isa 42:1). By speaking these same words into a new time and a new situation, the prophet was renewing the mission of the Servant and affirming its continuing importance for the Israelites and the nations. Through his own prophetic ministry and through the service that his contemporaries were called to render, God’s good news of healing, liberation and vindication would continue to be preached.

In the final three verses of this excerpted text, a celebration erupts. Unfortunately, the verses that account for this joy (vv. 8-9) are omitted from this pericope. God has taken Judah home. Healing has begun and her life in God is on track once more. God’s desires for Judah are made known. God yearns for justice and despises the injustice of oppression; God despises the tyranny that led to Judah’s demise but yearns for the redirecting of all their efforts toward justice. If God’s yearnings are fulfilled, then Judah will enjoy blessed recompense and a renewed relationship with God. These blessings are celebrated with romantic and nuptial language that reaffirms Judah’s special place in the world as God’s chosen and beloved people.

Walter Brueggemann describes this text as “wondrous for Advent” because it: (1) invokes hope in the possibility of a genuine, public transformation; (2) asserts the conviction that God will effect this transformation through a human being; (3) prepares believers to recognize the role of Jesus in realizing this text; and (4) invites believers to continue Jesus’ ministry of bringing peace, healing and justice to a world in so much need of these blessings (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1992).

1 Thess 5:16-24Because of the overwhelming bad news with which this world is burdened, some among

us might conclude that there is no reason for joy, or that joy is an unrealistic response to such serious problems. Consider, however, the situation of Sheila Cassidy (b. 1937). A British doctor known for her work in hospice care, Cassidy went to practice medicine in Chile. In 1975, she treated a political opponent of the dictator Augusto Pinochet, and as a result was arrested by the Chilean DINA (secret police). Severely tortured on the infamous parilla (a device made of electrified bedsprings), she was forced to give up the name of the man she treated, but she did not relinquish the joy that grew out of her deep faith. In her account of her experience, she wrote, “Incredibly, in the midst of fear and loneliness, I was filled with joy, for I knew, without a vestige of doubt, that God was with me and that nothing they could do to me could change that” (Audacity to Believe, Collins Press, London: 1977). If Cassidy, who endured unspeakable torture, could maintain her joy, how much more might we find our own joy and hang on to it amid the small and sometimes large struggles of life?

When Paul wrote his first letter to the Thessalonians, he encouraged them to find their joy in God. That joy, Paul insisted, would enable believers to be grateful to God in all circumstances. That joy would also empower prayer, and prayer, in turn, would strengthen the relationship with

God, who is the source of all joy. Prayer also creates an opening in the human heart where the spirit of God can be welcomed. This Spirit should not be quenched, said Paul. Rather, the Spirit’s promptings, particularly as they are spoken through authentic prophets, should be heeded.

As Beverly Roberts Gaventa has explained, it seems that there was a problem in Thessalonica (First and Second Thessalonians, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1998). Certain wild prophecies regarding the parousia made the more cautious members of the community suspicious of prophecy altogether. To remedy the situation, Paul called for wisdom and discernment so that those who spoke authentically for God would be accepted and their messages taken to heart.

There are times when the task of discernment seems too difficult. But Charles Cousar calls our attention to the fact that the verbs throughout this passage, as well as the second-person pronouns, are all plural (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). No individual is burdened with all the weighty decisions that are to be made regarding the life of the community. Rather, the church is called to be a community of moral discernment; the church tests the various voices; the church decides whose shall be heeded and whose shall not. When such decisions are made, the church celebrates together in joy because the presence of the Holy Spirit assures the church of truth and empowers that same church to live accordingly.

John 1:6-8, 19-28An intriguing figure, John the son of Elizabeth and Zechariah was described by Josephus

as “a good man who commanded the Jews to exercise virtue, both as to righteousness toward one another and piety toward God, and so to come to baptism … many came in crowds about him for they were very greatly moved by hearing his words … Herod, who feared, lest the great influence John had over the people might put it into his power and inclination to raise a rebellion, thought it best by putting him to death, to prevent any mischief he might consider” (Antiquities of the Jews, XVIII, Ch. 5).

John’s message and manner attracted a considerable following from among those who longed for their messiah. Had he wanted to, John could probably have raised a revolt; he could also have allowed the people to invest their messianic hopes in him. But he did neither. John had learned that another would come with the good news of salvation and that he was to be his herald. To that end, John prepared his contemporaries, and when he had their attention, he deferred to Jesus. He was the voice; he had prepared the path. But Jesus would be both the very Word of God and the Way who would lead repentant believers to healing, forgiveness and salvation.

In this excerpted text from the Johannine Gospel, the roles of Jesus and of John are clarified as the delegation of priests and Levites from Jerusalem questions John. In the interrogation, as Stanley B. Marrow has pointed out (The Gospel of John: A Reading, Paulist Press, New York: 1995), we have a compendium of the expectations of the times: the Christ, Elijah, “the prophet” (1:20-21).

Moreover, the persistence of the questioners sets the stage for John’s declaration. John’s whole purpose was to prepare the way for Jesus. John also suggests an attitude of deference that every believer in Jesus is to cultivate. Ours is a ministry of preparing the way so that Jesus will find a welcome among us. Ours is also a ministry of recognizing Jesus and pointing him out to others. We are not to draw attention to ourselves or press our own agendas; it is Jesus who must increase while I decrease.

To that end, John described Jesus as “one among you whom you do not recognize” (v. 26). This description challenged John’s listeners to be receptive to whomever God would send among them. Rather than have them cling to their own preconceptions about who the messiah might be or should be, John invited his contemporaries to become more attuned to the often unexpected ways God’s will is revealed. His description of Jesus continues to challenge us to recognize Jesus in traditional ways, but also in the unorthodox manner of his coming in the guise of God’s poor and outcast ones.

Sample Homily for Dec. 14, 2008, Third Sunday of AdventPerfect-Pitch PrayerFr. James Smith

We hear Paul’s command to pray constantly, and we feel overwhelmed by the impossibility of always praying. But the “always” is the easy part of the command! And you can do it. Because “always” does not literally mean every single second; it is a figure of speech. When Willie Nelson sings “You are always on my mind,” he does not mean that he thinks of you every second, but that you surround his activities, circle his thoughts, are an abiding presence to him.

You can do that with God. Of course, you would have to love God as much as Willie loves all the girls he left behind. God would have to be a personal friend of yours, a joy and comfort to be around, someone you really enjoyed spending time with. It is hard to make God that real, but you could. And if you did, you would fulfill Paul’s command.

That is, if you could fulfill the hard part of the command: “Pray.” Just saying prayers by reciting words is easy. But that is the lowest form of prayer. We have to accept the fact that God and we live in two different universes, we are on two different wavelengths, we don’t speak the same language. There is no way we can communicate on a verbal level.

Then how can we pray? Well, we deal with ultimate reality, the actual situation between God and us. We are a unique “word” spoken by God. Prayer is our understanding of that word, our acceptance of that word, our becoming that word.

Let’s put that in context. God first spoke his Word, and that Word was the Son of God. That Word became flesh and lived a human life. His life was to do God’s will, to become on earth what he was when he came forth from God’s mind. The whole life of the original Word of God was to be continually in God’s presence. The prayer of Jesus was simply to be aware of his Father’s abiding presence.

That is how we are to pray. Simply to be ourselves with God. Like a rock or a rabbit is happy just being. Of course, a rock or a rabbit is not even aware of being what it is. Humans have the unique capacity not only to be, but to be aware that we exist, and aware that we exist in the face of our Creator. Moreover, unlike rocks and rabbits, who are simply specimens of rock or rabbit nature, we are individual, personal expressions of human nature. We do not fulfill our self by simply being what we now are. No, we have the power of becoming more than we now are. Our very nature is to improve on our nature.

We do that in countless ways: getting smarter, growing taller, increasing strength, amassing wealth, winning friends, influencing people. All of us work out of this same common human nature. But each one of us is also endowed with a personal grace: Each of us is a unique utterance of God. God never speaks the same word twice.

The purpose of our whole life is to understand the word of God that we are, to accept that word, to speak that word in its fullness back to God. We

do that by living always in God’s presence, as Jesus did. That is “praying always.” And when we pay attention to the awesome fact that we live in God’s presence, when we attune our life-rhythm to God’s heartbeat — that is perfect-pitch prayer.

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT (B)December 21, 2008Holy SpacesPatricia Datchuck Sánchez

2 Sam 7:1-5, 8-12, 14-16Rom 16:23-27Luke 1:26-38

Israel’s first holy spaces were places where a human being had experienced God. That encounter could have occurred anywhere, from a mountaintop to a running brook, from an expanse of desert to a verdant forest. Meetings with God were often memorialized by a stone or pile of stones placed on the spot so that subsequent passersby would realize they were on holy ground and afford that place the reverence it was due. Gradually, holy places became more permanently established, as in the tent of meeting referenced in today’s first reading. Eventually, the movable tent evolved into a stationary temple and was recognized as the holiest place for meeting and communing with God.

With the institution of the temple, as Jerome H. Neyrey has pointed out, “maps” were drawn to designate the varying degrees of holiness in certain spaces (The Social World of Luke-Acts, Hendrickson Publishers, Peabody, Mass.: 1991). Within the temple there were ten degrees of holiness, with the Holy of Holies being holiest of all. Holiness was not determined solely by personal piety or righteousness but by nearness to the presence of God, who was thought to be enthroned in the Holy of Holies over the Ark of the Covenant. When the ark was given a permanent place of residence in the temple which Solomon built, God’s holiness was thought to fill that place with glory.

With the coming of God in Jesus Christ, holiness took up residence in a new location. No longer would humans commune with God solely in the precincts of the temple, with its varying degrees of holiness. Rather, holiness itself had come to live within the parameters of the human condition, and humanity itself became a holy space. This wonder is celebrated in today’s Gospel as the Luke tells the story of Mary’s conception. Through the power of the Most High and Holy God, the very Spirit of God overshadowed Mary, and she became what the early church was proud to call the living Ark of the Covenant. A holy place, a sacred space by virtue of the child she conceived and carried, Mary is held out to Advent believers as both an example and an inspiration.

Just as Mary welcomed the Spirit and brought forth Jesus, thereby becoming a holy space that God fully occupied, so did Mary become the place where others could come to encounter the God who dwelled within her. In this, she showed herself to be an authentic disciple. Her discipleship continues to teach us how to make room in our lives for God, for Jesus, for the Spirit, and thereby to become the holy places and sacred spaces of which this world is in so much need.

This special role of ours as living sanctuaries where God chooses to dwell and through whom God chooses to be revealed is most poignant during Advent. We who await the Coming One often prepare symbols of welcome: the manger, the crèche, the cave, the inn. But in truth, all these symbols are to be realized in each of us. We are the empty crèche awaiting the presence of God. Individually, and especially together as church, we are the living place made holy by God’s presence.

At times, however, we are like the inn of ancient tradition where there was no room and from which Mary and Joseph were turned away. Too many worries, too many projects, too many parties, too much shopping, too many gifts, too many bills — all these can crowd their way into the empty place where God wishes to enter and dwell in divine fullness. Therefore, Advent reminds us to clear a space, to empty the clutter that crowds our lives and to create a welcome for God. Through our praying, through our hoping and through our yearning for the Holy One, we become that quiet silence and ever-widening welcome which God will fill.

But the God who comes to fill us also dares us to relinquish our expectations so as to recognize the divine holiness that comes in everyday faces. Dorothy Day called it “making room for Christ” (Selected Writings, Robert Ellsberg, ed., Orbis Books, Maryknoll, N.Y.: 1992). There is no use in saying that we’ve been born 2,000 years too late to welcome Christ, said Day. “On the contrary, it is with the voices of our contemporaries that he speaks. With the eyes of store clerks and children, he looks at us. With the hands of slum dwellers and suburban housewives, he reaches out. He walks with the feet of the soldier and the tramp. With the heart of all in need, he longs for us to shelter him. And, the giving of shelter or food or welcome to anyone who asks or needs it, is giving to Christ and making room for his holiness to dwell within.”

2 Sam 7:1-5, 8-12, 14-16An astute leader, David knew that if he was to be king of the loose and often contentious

federation of tribes who had claimed Canaan as their own, he would have to earn the allegiance of those tribes. This he did by showing himself a patriot and a fierce warrior for the Israelites. Impressed by his obvious charism for leadership, the tribes of the north and the tribes of the south anointed him and claimed him as their king (see 2 Sam 2:1-4; 5:1-5). To further solidify his subjects and assure his authority, David brought the ark, the sign of God’s presence, to his capital city, Jerusalem (2 Sam 6). Then, in yet another wise political move, David sought to lend some permanence to the tent that sheltered the ark by building a temple in which the ark would be forever enshrined. With Jerusalem as the spiritual and political center of his kingdom, David probably supposed that his government was as secure as possible. However, as is reflected in this excerpted text, David’s plans were subject to divine revision.

At first, Nathan, David’s court prophet, gave the king the go-ahead, but he was later informed that God had other ideas regarding David and the temple. This change of plans, as Walter Brueggemann has pointed out, became an occasion for asserting the character of God (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). This God is a free, dynamic, independent God who journeys, bivouacs, comes and goes and is never confined to one place. Unlike the lowercase gods, this God needs no temple, desires no temple and approves no temple. David’s plans, however well-intentioned, were rejected.

With verse 8, the rhetoric shifts from the temple to David himself. In a series of succinct declarations, God makes it clear that it is God who is the sole guarantor of David’s past, present and future: “I took you ... I have been with you … I have destroyed your enemies … I will make

you famous … I will fix a place for my people Israel … I will give you rest … I will raise up your heir.” Moreover, it is God who will secure the house of David forever.

In the verses that follow this narrative, David’s essential greatness is revealed in a prayer of humble dependence on God (vv. 18-29). For all his posturing and planning, David was, in the end, God’s servant, and he acknowledged his indebtedness to God with a grateful reflection on what God had done for him, for his dynasty and for the people of Israel. David’s humble, grateful prayer speaks to the heart of each Advent believer, reminding each of us that in all we are and in all we shall ever be, we are to acknowledge God as first, foremost and central to our lives. God’s will should strike the path and set the pace of all we do. David was willing to learn this. In today’s Gospel, Mary will join him in teaching us the attitude of acquiescence to God that should characterize every believer.

Rom 16:23-27Described by scripture scholars as one of the greatest benedictions in biblical literature,

the final three verses of Paul’s correspondence with the believers in Rome is a true summation of his thought. Despite the fact that this benediction occurs in different places in some of the early manuscripts of Romans (e.g., after Chapter 14 in some; after Chapter 15 in others), it forms a very fitting conclusion to the whole of Paul’s letter to Rome.

Forming an inclusion with similar verses with which he opened his letter (1:2-5), this concluding blessing celebrates God’s plan of salvation, given voice by the prophets, fulfilled in the person and mission of Jesus Christ and now made available to all the nations. Thus framed, explains Paul Achtemeier (Romans, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1985), the whole of Paul’s thought as expressed in Romans can be appreciated within the perspective of God’s accomplishing the divine purpose in Christ, that purpose being the reconciliation of all of rebellious humankind with its loving, caring Creator.

In remembering what Jesus has accomplished for sinners in his first appearance among us, we would do well to anticipate the second and final coming of the Lord by working diligently to appropriate his gift of salvation. Advent is the perfect season for us to become more attuned to God’s gifts and to Jesus, who has put them within our reach. Like Paul, we are to be fully cognizant of the fact of our freedom to accept or to reject God’s gifts. Paul was also aware that one day, there will be no more days to use our freedom to take hold of our salvation. On that day, the last day, it will be too late to prepare.

Part of preparing to welcome Jesus’ final appearance will consist in handing on the good news to others. Preaching this good news with our lips as well as our lives is both our privilege and our duty. A poignant illustration of the importance of our preaching has been told by the late, great scripture scholar William Barclay (“The Letter to the Romans,” The Daily Study Bible, Saint Andrew Press, Edinburgh, U.K.: 1975): “After Jesus’ resurrection, an angel asked, ‘Do they all know about what you did for them?’ ‘No,’ Jesus answered. ‘So far, only a few know.’ ‘And,’ said the angel, ‘what have you done so that they will all know?’ ‘Well,’ answered Jesus, ‘Peter and James and John and a few others know, and I’ve asked them to make it known to all the nations until every human being has heard the good news.’ The angel appeared doubtful and asked, ‘But what if Peter and James and John forget? What if they get tired? Have you made other plans?’ To this Jesus responded, ‘No, there are no other plans. You see, I’m counting on them.’ ”

Luke 1:26-38

One of the very first of Jesus’ disciples to spread the good news by word and example, Mary, his mother, was held in high honor by the early believers. So revered was she that Luke chose to make her a major spokesperson of the new era ushered in by her son. That era would see a reversal of fortunes for the rich, who would know want; the hungry, who would be fed; and the lowly, who would be exalted. The mercy of God would be extended to all sinners. In today’s Gospel, the Lucan evangelist explains that this revolutionary reversal was rooted in the goodness of God and in the daring of one young woman, who, even if she did not understand, believed. Though she could not know what the future would bring, she nevertheless trusted in God.

God’s plan for Mary and the future of all humankind was revealed through the angel messenger. If Gabriel had been delivering a PowerPoint presentation, it would have had four bullets: (1) Mary was to have a son named Jesus; (2) he would be the Son of the Most High God; (3) he would be the promised heir to the throne of David; (4) all that would transpire would be under the auspices of the Holy Spirit. Through these four points, the Lucan evangelist has referenced several texts from the Hebrew scriptures: Ps 2:7; 2 Sam 7:13-16; Exod 40:35; 1 Kings 8:10 and Hag 2:6-9, indicating that all of these find their fulfillment in Jesus.

Further references to scripture can be heard in the angel’s words of assurance to Mary. Fred B. Craddock describes these words as “the creed behind all creeds” (Luke, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.). Repeated by Gabriel are the very words spoken to Abraham and Sarah when they were incredulous at the news that they were to have a child: “for nothing will be impossible for God” (Gen 18:14). To her credit, Mary believed, and through her, the impossible became not only possible but a palpable reality. Through her has come Jesus, God’s own Word of saving love and merciful forgiveness. With Joseph and Mary, Jesus lived what had been formerly deemed to be an impossible life that superseded the limitations of the law (“an eye for an eye”) by love (“turn the other cheek” and “do good to those who hate you,” etc.).

This is the Jesus whose coming we await. Mary was able to welcome Jesus and all the workings of God into her life because she had cultivated a space for God through her humility and hope. In our own preparations for Jesus’ coming, she remains our mentor. Her response to God, “I am the handmaid of the Lord,” encourages us to remain open to God even when we cannot know where our journey with God will lead us or how it will end. Author Kathleen Norris (“The Annunciation” in Amazing Grace, Riverhead Books, New York: 1998) invites believers to treasure Mary’s story and allow it to ask of us these important questions: “When God’s love breaks into my consciousness, do I run from it? Do I ask of it what cannot be answered? Do I retreat into clichés or faulty wisdom? Or am I virgin enough to respond from my deepest truest self and say something new, a ‘yes’ that will change me forever?”

Sample Homily for Dec. 21, 2008, Fourth Sunday of Advent“How Christmas Was Not”Fr. James Smith

When something wonderful happens, we enjoy it for a while … then less so, because we forget how wonderful it actually is. So, to increase our appreciation of the birth of Jesus, let’s imagine how it might not have been.

Thirteen year-old Mary is sleeping quietly on her straw mat on the dirt floor of her one-room home. A few sheep and a cow are getting through the night in their own animal way across the same room. It is mercifully cool tonight, with a slight breeze wafting the scent of fig blossoms and olive groves through her high window.

All of a sudden, Mary springs up anxiously. There is a foreign presence in the room. It was introduced by a sudden draft and a rustle of wings settling into composure. The angel had already been there awhile, watching the child peacefully asleep. He was loath to disturb her young life with a very adult decision.

Mary rubs her eyes and sits up to confront the reality of this strange being who is interrupting her slumber. There is no ignoring it, no going back to sleep. And it is not a dream. But what could an angel possibly want from her, a hillbilly teen in an obscure village on the edge of the world?

When the angel assures her that God himself has picked her from all the women of all the world in all of history, Mary is flabbergasted. There is no mistaking his message, though, impossible and insane as it is: God wants Mary to mother God’s Son! The God whom Mary believes could not even have a son, an unique God totally unlike those half-human pagan gods. How could this generation of God possibly happen?

“Easy,” says the angel. “You don’t have to do anything — just let it happen to you.” Mary doesn’t dare say: “Easy for angels. But extremely stressful for earthlings.”

Mary thinks of what her friend Susan had to endure as an unwed mother in this inbred village of cackling women and crowing men. Nobody will believe that God is the Father. Even she can’t quite believe it! And what about poor Joseph, her sweetheart? His love for her can stretch his trust only so far.

Mary is not ready for motherhood, even under better circumstances. She has watched her mother’s youthful breasts become blue-veined and bulging after pregnancy; then, after nursing, withered and leathered like half-empty wineskins. Little Jewish Mary is ready to accept her future role as a mother, but there will be time for that adult responsibility later, after enjoying her youth.

Besides, she has always dreamed of having a girl. Not a boy, even if it is God’s Boy. Her girl would be gentle, peaceful, pretty, a nice companion. Boys are mean and noisy and aggressive. Mary can imagine a quiet, contented life with Rachel; but with Jesus, the future looms disruptive, lonely, maybe even violent.

Mary does not think all of these things through, of course. They simply simmer inside her. In fact, she never does get around to formulating her rational response. Her body beats her to it. On its own, her belly clenches, her face winces, her fragile body turns toward the wall away from that awful angel.

The angel does not take it personally. He is merely a messenger — no feather off his wings. Off to the next mission. There is no quiet like the quiet after an angel leaves the world. Ocean tides halt, tectonic plates cease sliding, stars stop spinning. Even the air is breathless. Mary is alone with her answer.

Sample Homily for Dec. 25, 2008, Christmas“What Child Is This?”Fr. James Smith

The birth of any baby is significant. For the baby itself, this is the beginning of a unique human consciousness to experience the wonder of the world. For the family, it is the joy of seeing their own flesh and blood extended in time. The world waits in wonder to see if this child will increase or diminish humankind’s progress. And God waits to see how this child might further or impede God’s kingdom. But there is something more involved in this child’s birth. Because this

is no ordinary human, no ordinary transfer of genes: We believe Jesus to

be the enfleshment, the humanization of God — God’s final and definitive engagement with human beings.Of course, God has always been engaged with us. In the beginning, when

there was nothing but God, God freely decided to create something to relate with. God began with a tiny speck and gave it the power to unroll, expand, evolve, discover itself over time, creating the cosmos that we know.It was not a random progression. Each species fulfilled itself and was

surpassed according to scientific laws. New creatures came into being by necessity, by nature, until the entrance of human beings. When creation had progressed that far, God said: “This is a new creature; it is in my image; it has a certain amount of freedom with which it can determine its own fate.” So God had a talk with this new creature that went something like this:

“You are free to create your own personality. But your freedom nestles inside my freedom. Which means that your fulfillment is in choosing what I choose. If you pit your freedom against mine, you will suffer the consequences. So will you do my will, or your own?”We know that the first person plural preferred unlimited freedom to

freedom within God’s freedom. Their bad choices went from fratricide to incest, to tribal war to genocide. Of course, since God created them, God was stuck with them, constantly responding to their free decisions with appropriate adjustment.God was more than a passive respondent, though; more than a mere reactor

to humankind’s erratic adventure. God is responsible for everything that God creates. Which means that God had a providence for us. So at the proper time, God freely called Abraham to father an extended

family whom God would adopt as his own. Then, instead of God dealing with creation from a distance, God would relate with creation through a specific human community. Israel would be the human mediator between God and creation.But Israel also often made poor choices. In order to guide them, God

sent special envoys, prophets, to interpret God’s will for Israel in different situations. But Israel remained incorrigible.In the fullness of time, a strange man in the desert decided that it was

time for God to take over in person. He proclaimed: “The kingdom of God is here and now.” God affirmed this, sending his own Son and saying: “The Baptist is correct. The kingdom of God has arrived.” This means that God now walks with us on earth as he once did with Adam. Humankind gets a second chance to make the right choice.But as we stand today looking down at the Christ child, we know that the

stakes are higher this time. Jesus is not just a human who does what God wills; Jesus is God, who does what God does. Yet Jesus is not just God acting like a human. Jesus is a real human who is free to accept or reject God’s will. Your salvation and mine hangs on how this divine Jesus lives his human life.We had better keep our eyes on this little baby.

HOLY FAMILY, JESUS, MARY, JOSEPH (B)December 28, 2008The Whole Family of HumankindPatricia Datchuck Sánchez

Sir 3:2-7, 12-14

Col 3:12-21Luke 2:22-40

Whether tight-knit or loosely woven, family is the safety net that draws unique and different human persons and holds them together in a unity, however strong or tenuous. Whether wholesome or fractured, the ties that bind us bring tears to every family member’s eyes when one of their own is suffering. When one of the family achieves success, all celebrate it as if it were their own. When a newborn becomes part of the family, all feel a surge of new life; when one member dies, a little dying comes to all.

Today, in the company of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, we celebrate our identity as family, as “The Andersons,” “The O’Learys,” “The Kroens,” “The Martinezes,” etc. In addition to our own nuclear family, our Judaeo-Christian faith reminds us that we also belong to a global family that excludes no one, living or dead. But just as nuclear families can be healthy and holy or wounded and alienated, it can be so too on the global scale.

At this moment, untold numbers of our worldwide family are struggling to survive circumstances that threaten their very existence. War and its consequences destroy thousands in the human family each day. Famine claims even more lives and disease ravages its victims without mercy, leaving countless children orphaned and alone.

This hard reality is well-known, and many among us acknowledge our suffering brothers and sisters with generous help, prayers and service. But there are other family members whose voices are not heard and whose claim on us is not acknowledged. Millions of people from developing countries are seeking to survive through emigration. Driven by hunger and weighed down by poverty, joblessness and political oppression, these refugees risk their lives to try to provide the basic necessities of life for their own families. Many do not survive the journey; others are turned away at unfriendly borders. Nevertheless, their need is so great, their love for their own so deep that they keep coming and keep hoping that someone will recognize in them even a little kinship and welcome them. Even wealthy nations with great resources and room at the table for those who want to work hard and live responsibly are closing their doors to immigrants. Fear of political and economic conflict, supposed threats of terrorism and unwanted ethnic change have challenged America’s historic identity as a nation of immigrants. In recent times, for lack of a coherent immigration policy, federal enforcement agencies have focused on a deportation-only strategy to pursue the millions of undocumented people who are already in the country hoping to find a legal path to citizenship. Workplace raids are dividing parents form their children, imprisoning and deporting thousands of workers who were welcomed and often exploited by employers. While the goals of a national immigration system are legal and reasonable, the means have become an assault on human dignity and fairness. Children watch as their parents are taken away in handcuffs to appear later in court in chains. With little help from a rigid legal system, limited, cautious support from the church and little sympathy from many others who, despite their own immigrant heritage, believe the myths about immigrant dangers circulated by hate media, these helpless members of our family have little or no recourse.

At the same time, signs of momentous change are visible. As we enter the month of December, this nation has witnessed an historic struggle to determine who can lead our country and set national goals and policy. At the time of this writing, we still do not know whether an African-American president and his family will be preparing to celebrate their first Christmas in

the White House this year. Will the first woman in U.S. history take office as vice-president? Will the United States have demonstrated to the world the validity of its democratic promise that neither race nor gender nor family of origin prevents someone from achieving his or her dream? Whatever the outcome of the presidential election, history will record that candidate Barack Obama received his party’s nomination on the 45th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech. Obama invoked King’s vision of “a nation where people will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” as no longer just a dream but as a reality he had personally realized. While King’s vision is slowly but undisputedly becoming a reality that enriches the lives of some, others continue to live in a nightmare of fear and insecurity. The dream must expand to every member of the family. Therefore, those of us who are free to celebrate the gift of family today are compelled because of our membership in the family of Jesus to work diligently and to speak out boldly until absolutely every member of our human family can share the same joys.

Sir 3:2-7, 12-14In his classic book of prayers for families (Prayers For the Domestic Church,

Shantivanam House of Prayer Publications, Easton, Kan.: 1979), Edward M. Hays described the human family as a tiny nation. Like tiny nations, each family should have its own set of customs and traditions. Special foods, special days and special activities all combine to form a uniquely personal and living family tradition. “Such traditions,” writes Hays, “become heirlooms that are passed on from generation to generation as they are illuminated from the inside with beautiful memories and faith.”

Perhaps it is these special traditions filled with beautiful memories and faith that enable families to persevere during those times when family life is more of a struggle than a celebration. Hopefully, these same traditions will encourage parents to continue to revere their children even when frictions arise; these same traditions might also inspire children in caring for their parents when the cycle of life comes full circle and children become the caregivers of those who loved and cared for them.

As one who was steeped in the rich traditions of his people, Jesus the son of Sirach was eager to share his enthusiasm for their shared heritage. This excerpted text is part of a longer commentary on family life and on the commandment to honor one’s parents (Exod 20:12). Honoring one’s parents and caring for them were regarded not only as familial responsibilities but also as sacred duties that brooked no violation. To do so would breach not only family bonds but also the law, which bound Israel to God.

Sirach’s son was not only convinced of the legal obligation to honor one’s parents; he even proposed that doing so could atone for sin. Contemporary believers accept this exhortation in the general sense in which it was made, as an incentive to obedience, and not as an absolute guarantee of forgiveness. Our wise ancestor in the faith was well aware that wholesome activities were inspired by holy intentions. In their hearts, the ancients who lived the law cultivated a holy intent that issued forth in observance of the commandments, including the one that urged the care of one’s parents. This humble, trusting faith in God that begins in the heart and is expressed in one’s life — this is what atones for sin.

Full atonement for sin was, of course, effected by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, the loving and faithful son of his earthly parents as well as his heavenly Father. By virtue of that atonement, every member of the human family, without exception or distinction as to race, gender or

worthiness, is privileged to belong also to the family of God. If only we could allow this belonging to permeate our being and guide our regard for every one of our brothers and sisters.

Col 3:12-21A man once handed each of his sons an arrow and asked him to break it. All three arrows

broke easily. Then, he took three arrows, bound them together and placed them before his sons. “Now, break these,” he said, but none was able to do so. Then the man turned to his sons and said, “What is your lesson? If you stick together, you will never be defeated” (John Pekkanen’s “The Family That Couldn’t Be Broken,” in Everyday Greatness, Stephen R. Covey, ed., Rutledge Hill Press, Nashville, Tenn.: 2006).

In this text from Colossians, it is clear that the ancient Christian author wished to impress a similar truth upon his readers. Although they were beset by a variety of influences that threatened to weaken their familial ties in Christ Jesus, the community could retain its unity if, as the author advised, they adhered to certain rules and behaviors. Then, like the three arrows that together could not be broken, the church in Colossae would be able to withstand both the lure of pagan philosophies and the pressure from the Judaizers who were insisting on the necessity of the law, circumcision, and dietary rules for all gentile converts to Jesus.

The author of Colossians recommended that believers devote themselves to cultivating their relationships with one another in Christ rather than let themselves be pulled in a direction other than one that would lead to Jesus. Earlier in this letter, the ancient writer had exhorted believers to “put off” evil ways so as to “put on” their new selves, as dictated by their faith in Jesus (3:8-10). In this text, the author makes those directives more practical and down-to-earth.

As God’s chosen ones, believers are to reflect the very character of God in all their dealings with one another. Ralph P. Martin has pointed out that peacemaking attitudes are a natural accompaniment of this God-like lifestyle (Ephesians, Colossians and Philemon, John Knox Press, Atlanta, Ga.: 1991). Forgiving and forbearing (v. 13) go hand in hand, and love is the knot that ties together the other graces. Love gives coherence to Christian living by supplying it with a driving force and motivation.

“Do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus” (v. 17) constitutes a summation of the rules of Christian conduct. If this summary rule were to be realized, then the believer’s every word and work, every thought and decision would have to prove itself worthy of Jesus. In spelling out the relevance of this rule in everyday living, the ancient writer gave practical advice to all family members. Martin Luther referred to these rules as Haustafeln, or household rules. Underlying every rule is an element of submission, first to Jesus Christ and then to one another because of Jesus. Although some contemporary readers may be offended by what has been interpreted as patriarchy and chauvinism, careful readers will realize that all that is being advocated here is a certain altruism whereby each family member values and places the other ahead of self. This same altruism continues in those healthy and holy families that aspire to reflect the divine family template of our own triune God.

Luke 2:22-40Parents are the primary mentors of their children. They help their children to develop

their own personalities, cultivate their social skills and educate their children at every level of their physical, emotional and intellectual development. By word and especially by example, parents also initiate their children into the life of faith. Good parents in every way, Mary and Joseph saw to the needs of Jesus. In today’s Gospel, they are portrayed as handing on the rich

traditions of their faith to their son by adhering to the law. Their presence in the temple was required by a statute in Exodus that said that 40 days after his birth, the child should be presented to the Lord (Exod 13:2-12) and by a statute in Leviticus (12:2-8) that required the ritual purification of the new mother.

In addition to affirming the sincere spirituality of Jesus’ earthly family, Luke had further reasons to include this narrative in his Gospel. By appearing in the temple to acquiesce to the law, Mary and Joseph set the scene for the actions of Simeon and Anna, both of whom Luke describes as “awaiting the consolation of Israel.” Both Simeon and Anna focus the reader’s attention on Jesus and on the future that will be profoundly impacted by his presence.

As Beverly Gaventa has explained, Luke lays the foundations for their respective messages by citing their credentials (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). Simeon, a righteous and devout man, was endowed with the Holy Spirit and thus was able to recognize Jesus as the long-awaited messiah. Anna, who spent her life in fasting and prayer, was also divinely inspired to thank God for the child, whom she felt blessed to encounter.

This unlikely pair of witnesses announced their conviction that Jesus was directly connected to “the consolation of Israel” (v. 25) and “the redemption of Jerusalem” (v. 30). With language that is reminiscent of the prophet we call Deutero-Isaiah (40:5; 46:13; 49:6), Simeon’s pronouncement underscored the universality of the salvation to come through Jesus (“revelation for gentiles, glory for Israel”). Simeon’s second pronouncement (vv. 34-35) affirmed the controversial nature of Jesus’ role. As Gaventa has further noted, up to this point the appearance of Jesus has been described solely in terms of joy and triumph. Jesus was the promised one of David’s line (1:32); he came to fulfill God’s promises (1:55). Jesus is the Savior (2:11) and the glory of Israel (2:32). But here, a somber tone is heard as Simeon acknowledges the division that will be prompted by Jesus’ words and works. He will be the reason for “the fall and the rise of many.” Many scholars regard this text as a hint of the dying and the rising through which Jesus would effect salvation, as well as the dying to self and the rising with Christ that would characterize Jesus’ disciples.

Through all the ups and downs, the dying and rising of their life together, Mary, Joseph and Jesus supported one another through their mutual love and shared faith in God. Today they reach out with gentle hands in support of all families who wish to follow their example.

Sample Homily for Dec. 28, 2008 Feast of the Holy Family“Growing in Wisdom”Fr. James Smith

The Gospel today says that Jesus grew in wisdom and grace. It’s hard to grow up, to mature, to become an authentic self. The most

famous modern spiritual writer, Thomas Merton, invented the true/false self theory. He said that we all have a true inner self that we bury under a false self, and the goal of life is to get rid of that false self so our true self will shine through.

That sounds good … but too simplistic, too easy. And whenever I suspect that something is too clever by far, I go back to my really simple roots. I imagine Fr. Merton looking at a world-weary Mrs. Smith, who raised 10 children through three wars and a depression. When Merton piously says: “Clara, this is not your true self,” Mother Smith smacks Father Merton clear back into the monastery.

Indeed, how dare we tell people who have spent 40 or 60 or 90 years creating their unique personality that they have merely built a false self; that they are living a lie; that they are not true to themselves? With apologies to the monk, I think that is a false dichotomy. It assumes that each of us has an ideal self that we ruin through normal living, that our life is good for nothing but to be thrown out and replaced.

Instead of that impossible life-plan, let’s think of life as “on the way to completion.” We first have to give up the mythical notion that we are born perfect. Five minutes with any child shows how silly that theory is.

No, we are born with 20/20 vision: One eye looks with love at everything while the other eye has a leery, envious glint. All through life, in different situations, we make different decisions, which bring our only self closer to completion. Now and then, by the grace of God and the slings of misfortune, we see that our self is not as good as it could be. We notice that whether we do or don’t have the corner office or the best parking space is not important any more. We realize that success is a moving target not worth our best efforts. We shift our interest to a completed self.

Then we notice what we have done and whom we have hurt to get ahead. We cheated on a test, slandered a colleague, cut corners on a deal — used fellow human beings to further our own advantage. Then we learn that we are all in a boat together and we begin to view each other as cooperators instead of competitors.

One day we suddenly wonder whether sex is worth all that froth and fury. We ponder it and discover that it is what makes us profoundly and completely male or female. So we begin treating each other as authentic men and women. Which leads us to reconsider love. We think over the many ways we have mismanaged love and missed opportunities for caring and we begin to mend the wounds we made.

As various skills are taken from us, as our possibilities shrink, as our usefulness declines, as our powers fade, we are reduced to the bare essentials of our humanity. Then finally we die in our incomplete self. Where we meet Jesus, the Perfect Self, who accepts us as we are because he knows what it is to be human. He fills up what is lacking in us, brings our individual life to completion and hands us over to our Father, where we see our real self as God sees it.